


Lean On

by CelestePhantasm



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, School-related stress, Swearing, family pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestePhantasm/pseuds/CelestePhantasm
Summary: (Name) is in college, working her tail off to finish up. In fact, Newt thinks she’s working far too hard. Good thing he’s there to lean on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **_DISCLAIMER:_** I do **NOT** own "The Maze Runner," any of its sequels, characters, ideas, etc. I own literally nothing, I make absolutely no profit from writing this. I write for fun.
> 
> This story is based on a request I received on Tumblr some time ago. (I am horrible at actually moving all of my stories over at once...I'm sorry!)
> 
> The request was this:
> 
> “hello, i was wondering if you could write an au where the the reader is having a busy week and she is on the verge of breaking down and newt comes and helps her? Im in the same situation and i just really want something to help me go through this week p.s. i love your writing and please keep doing what you’re doing”
> 
> This story is what came of said request. The person who requested it did have a few specifics in mind, and I tailored the story a bit to her preferences, but overall I made it a bit more of a fairly general fic.
> 
> Enjoy!

**_ Lean On _ **

“Jesus fucking Christ, I'm gonna be late to my grave.”

Those were the not-so-quiet words Newt awoke to. He was usually a morning person, but he'd had a long trip to get here. His girlfriend was working her tail off studying at college, and he'd come up to see her—and pick her up—just before the holidays hit. He'd told her ahead of time that he'd show up a week before her final day and help her pack up, and help her with anything else she needed, but when he'd knocked on her door...

Well, he'd almost compare her to looking like she'd shoved a fork in an electrical socket. Her hair was standing out—she messed with it when she was flustered—and had apparent bits of glue in it and her eyes were bloodshot.

She'd asked what he was doing there, and he'd told her; he was there for her. It was a week away from her heading home.

She'd appeared near tears at that news, and Newt had disregarded all her protest and had swept her in his arms and held her, and she had cuddled in to him so tightly he was sure he would be sore the next day.

It was worth it.

She'd pulled away and pointed to her room—her father, an architect, had enough money that he'd gotten her a small, one-bedroom apartment not far from campus, knowing she'd appreciate the quiet—and told him he could make himself comfortable.

He'd wanted to protest, but she'd dashed toward a table with an elaborate project on it—probably the source of the bits of glue—and all her focus turned to it. Even as he carried his one duffel bag to her bedroom, he could hear her muttering about time.

He wondered if all she drank was coffee at this point.

His suspicions were not much alleviated when he returned from her room—there were only two open spots on her counter, and those were in the same area as her coffeepot, toaster, and sink, and the other was at her microwave. Her stove was also uncovered, but that didn't give him a lot of hope—her trash can was filled with takeout containers and instant noodle cups, and a dangerous amount of coffee filters.

Her counter space was taken up by open books, each dog-eared and with—of all things—spoons, forks, and knives holding certain pages. He could see her turning between them, flipping back and forth, going back to the project on her table.

She looked exhausted, and frazzled.

He'd let her work until nearly eleven that night, and then had wrestled her away from the project, force-fed her _real_ food he'd ordered from a restaurant—she clearly hadn't shopped for a while—and then, at one, he'd dragged her to bed when she declared her project was done and it was time to work on her paper.

He was having absolutely none of that.

But he awoke to her swearing, hair dripping wet and being roughly dried by friction via towel, looking as harried and chaotic as she had last night.

She'd told him the paper wasn't due until...well, tomorrow, now.

So what was she up and flustered about?

He stumbled after her in to the kitchen, seeing her hastily ripping silverware out of her books and slapping them shut, dropping them in a backpack that looked to weigh as much as she did, and his wits and reflexes finally returned when she tried to go out the door with a piece of toast—that was one of the only things she had; bread—and a travel mug nearly bursting with tar-like coffee.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him, “(Name), God, what are you doing?”

“Newt, I'm late for class! I overslept!” She looked near tears again, and he wanted to pull her in to his arms. “It's the last day before finals kick in! I've gotta go!”

And she left him there, standing, open-mouthed, as she chugged the coffee on the way to her car.

After that particularly horrid awakening, Newt knew he'd never sleep. He was worried sick about her. She was clearly pushing herself too hard; her family had such high expectations for her, and she had so many classes, and she had so much to do.

He set to work.

Her place was neat...aside from the books she hadn't taken that morning. And the project on the table. ...Shit.

He gathered it carefully—he didn't fear she'd kill him if he wasn't careful with it, but that she'd have a full-on breakdown—and walked it out to his truck, texting her that he was on his way with it. He knew she needed it; she'd told him the night before, as he curled around her in bed.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as showing up; she was already in class, and she told him to meet her outside a specific room, and...well, that took longer than it should've.

But he found it, and (Name) looked near tears when he told her he was outside her classroom.

Her hair was wild from the shower she'd taken, but at least it was glue-free. He didn't let her go when she reached for it, but instead, pulled her close, and he kissed her softly. “Please take it easy.”

She turned tomato red.

It made him grin, but he watched her put the project on a table at the front of the room, and a skeptical-looking professor swept in and began examining it closely.

(Name) waved to Newt, and he sighed.

She'd never forgive him if he stayed, so he went back to her apartment, and set to work.

He took the trash out, first—it smelled terrible, probably from the bitter coffee grounds and crushed take-out boxes that said she'd not gotten rid of it in a long, long time. Next, he decided she needed food. _Real_ food. Grocery shopping was a must, and he set to work on that shortly after; he took inventory of her cabinets and made a small meal plan, because, if he had to, he'd _force_ her to eat.

It was her last semester—she'd taken summer classes, too, to speed up her timetable—but that didn't mean she could entirely neglect her health, and Newt, for one, was not just going to sit idly by and let her continue this way.

This was unhealthy. Utterly, completely unhealthy, and if the coffee she was drinking was anything to go by, it was _dangerous_. Her heart rate was probably anything but steady, and even if it was, it was probably through the roof. She looked exhausted and she seemed well beyond her limits.

He got enough food for both of them for the week and set an alarm on his phone—he'd start cooking when it was about time for her to get home.

His final goal was simple; packing her up. It was her last semester, and she was moving back home. So he started small; nothing she'd need, of course. He packed up her books and all of her movies, stowing them in a safe, out-of-the-way spot, knowing that he could stream movies if he could ever talk her in to taking a little break.

Dinner would be hard enough to make her do.

He put away photos of her family and the handful of little nicknacks she'd brought, mostly for sentimental reasons. The one thing he left out was a photo of the two of them on her bedside; they were both laughing, and she was riding on his back, planting a huge kiss on his cheeks through her laughter.

She didn't look the same. She looked malnourished and tired, and he feared for her.

She arrived only minutes after he started cooking, and her hair had gone from wild to drooping through the day. She looked ready to collapse, but she was already heading for the kitchen table with her laptop. He stopped her, of course, by leaving the stove and taking the laptop from her hands. “Absolutely not. You're going to take a long enough break to let me cook and for us to eat.”

She looked up at him wearily, and he shook his head. “No, actually, you're gonna nap while I cook.”

“I don't have time,” she mumbled, looking helpless. “I have to do that paper, and then I have to study for finals. I have to submit the paper online by midnight.”

“You're not gonna get anywhere by burning yourself out, love,” he said, and he pulled her in to his arms, shaking his head. “It'll be done in thirty minutes. You can sleep for that long.”

She gave a heavy sigh, and buried herself in his neck, nuzzling him meekly. “I'm gonna fail. Dad's gonna be so mad.”

“You're not,” he soothed, kissing her temple softly. “Come on, love. You just need to rest for a little while.” When she began to protest, he swept her in to his arms smoothly, and he carried her, carefully, to her room, putting her gently on her bed. “Sleep. Please? For me?”

She looked at him, and as desperately as she wanted to argue with him, he did look worried. He looked scared, and worried...and loving. She sighed. “Wake me when it's done.”

“Thank you, love.” He murmured it, and he bent, finding her lips softly, and she gave in, this time. She kissed him in return, letting him melt her right in to the bed, and the last she knew was the softness of his kiss.

He let her sleep for nearly an hour, making the excuse of setting the table and getting her food out for her—the sleep would do her better than anything else. But he woke her gently, and he walked her in to the kitchen; she was wobbly on her feet, and he knew she was absolutely burnt out.

But she ate, sighing quietly, and she complimented him; it was probably the first home-cooked meal she'd had in weeks, and he watched her actually, deliberately slow down enough to actually taste his food. He couldn't have been happier.

At last, when she finished her food, he lifted her laptop off the highest surface in the kitchen, and keeping his hand on it, he put it in front of her. “Five minutes for every thirty. I don't care if it's to walk around this kitchen table. You're pushing too bloody hard.”

She pouted at him, and he appreciated that she was already looking so much better. A little nap and some proper food seemed to have improved her drastically, and he made sure she did as he said; he was washing dishes, but forced her to take breaks now and then, even just to stretch.

And when midnight neared, he left his task of packing up the items she wouldn't need—he pulled the laptop away from her. “Need a fresh pair of eyes for the grammar?”

She looked at him, seeming torn between growling at him and appreciating the gesture, but she nodded. He went through it quickly, and she fixed things he pointed out as he went, and she managed to submit the paper right before midnight.

Of course, true to all her previous behavior, she was already reaching for one of the books she had in her backpack, but Newt shook his head. “No.”

“Newt, I've gotta study.” She was already looking tired again, but Newt had prepared for that; he'd fixed a half a peanut-butter sandwich and was holding it out to her. “I don't have time, Newt. I've got finals the next few days.”

“Eat,” he pressed, putting the sandwich in one of her hands. “Then study for one hour, and then we're going to bed. You're killing your brain, love. You're gonna pass out in your exams because you've overdosed on caffeine and haven't been eating.” He paused, staring at her, and frowned. “Or sleeping.”

He didn't let her protest—interrupting her, at first, and finally, when she wouldn't drop the fight, he literally snatched the sandwich from her hand and put one end in her open mouth, forcing her to take a bite while shutting her up temporarily. “You either agree to this or I take you to the hospital and give you a good excuse for missing your bloody fucking finals.” He paused, and took a deep breath. “You're not well, (Name). You're bloody exhausted and you're running on empty. You can't keep this up and I don't care if you fail. Your dad is a slave-driver and I'm giving him a hell of a talking-to when we go back.”

The anger in his tone made her stop, and though she had to chew the bite of sandwich he'd made her take, it gave her a moment to think over it. She knew she was pushing herself too hard; she was always exhausted and always out of time, she barely slept, and she'd trained herself in to drinking coffee so dark it was nearly thick. She was at the end of her sanity and she just kept telling herself that all she had to do was last the week. That was it.

Then, it was over.

But the professors were crazy, assigning everything last minute, on top of studying, and she was ready to rip her hair out and just break down and cry.

But she couldn't give up, because her father expected her to do well. He expected her to join him in his business, expected her to take over for him one day...expected a lot of things. It felt like the world was sitting on her shoulders and she'd been trying so hard to do it all herself. And until Newt forced her to rest, forced her to eat, she didn't realize how hard she was being on herself. She felt weak, and she wondered at how much more she could take. It was only a few more days, true, but...it was so much. She wasn't sure she could do it.

She swallowed the little bite and felt the tears come shortly after. “I can't fail, Newt...I just can't do this again,” she said, shaking. “I can't do another semester of this. I can't.”

He caught her in his arms, pulling her in close, and he held her tightly. “It's okay.” He soothed her gently, keeping her safely wrapped in his arms, and he gave a heavy sigh. “I'm gonna help you. Okay?”

She sniffled against him, shaking her head, “But you don't know this stuff,” she mumbled, her voice cracking. “How can you help?”

“Well, feeding you and forcing you to sleep, first,” he assured, holding on to her. She hadn't pulled away, and he didn't want her to; he wanted her there, safe, in his arms. “And I'll quiz you from your notes. I know you. You have notes.”

She cried, quietly, in to his shoulder for a little while longer. “...Okay.” She wasn't sure how much more she could take. She wasn't sure she could have studied even if she tried; she was so burned out, so exhausted...her brain felt like static on the TV—a constant, low _chhhhhhhhhhhh _sound she couldn't stop or even turn down. “Can...can we sleep for a couple hours, first?”__

__“Happily,” he promised, and he pulled away from her gently. “Think you can eat the rest of that?”_ _

__She managed half of it, and Newt finished it for her, before carrying her to her bed. He set the alarm on his phone again, and he curled around her, wrapping her in his arms again, pulling her close._ _

__He worked with her on her studying, and while she was away taking the tests, he packed her up. He suspected she hadn't even begun to think of that—she hadn't had time._ _

__But as soon as she came home, he studied with her, even the things he didn't fully understand, and he fed her, sleeping with her wrapped tightly in his arms when she finally agreed to go to bed. She was already looking better, and he didn't know if it was the sleep, the food, or the fact that it was almost over...but she didn't look as close to breaking. Her eyes were finally looking a little less bloodshot, and at night, she was finally sleeping properly. She'd even agree to cook with him for a break, during which they talked about him, instead—anything to take her away from her imminent doom, as she called it._ _

__He walked out of her bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel, to see her sitting on the bed quietly, looking at the photo of them. “How long ago was this?”_ _

__He plopped on to the bed with her, thinking. “Mm. Right out of high school?” He ran the towel over his hair one more time, before dropping it in his lap. “I finally got the balls to ask you to prom, and this was after graduation. You were bloody gorgeous. I don't think I'd ever been intimidated by a woman, but I couldn't speak to you...and when I finally asked, you just grinned at me and said yes. That was it.” He grinned at her, drawing her in with his arms. “I think this was after graduation. We were headed for the fair and you jumped on me, cackling.”_ _

__She laughed at that. “Good thing Sonya was so fast with the camera,” she said, laughing. “Although I'm not sure Minho will ever let you live this photo down...” She paused, smiling, suddenly, and Newt could have melted for it. This was the first night she'd smiled or laughed since he arrived. “Does he still swear this night is the first time you got laid?”_ _

__Newt laughed then, lips splitting in an enormous grin, “Of course he does,” he murmured, and he leaned in, pulling her in to him, kissing her softly. “And I let him.”_ _

__She shook her head, kissing him back, tangling her fingers in his damp hair. “Probably best not to tell him you got some on our fifth date after you showed off how talented you were with your hands,” she murmured against his lips._ _

__He kissed her again, slowly, his fingers weaving through her hair, pulling her close, not letting her go until they were both breathless. “Probably,” he breathed._ _

__She closed her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. “Tomorrow night. It's all over tomorrow, so...”_ _

__He sighed, too, but he kissed her softly, some of the heat draining from his kiss. “You know I'll never force you in to anything, love.” The words were soft, but distinct, whispered against her lips. “And you never have to tell me yes.”_ _

__She smiled, giving him a quick, soft kiss. “I know. One of millions of reasons I love you,” she said, softly, meeting his eyes._ _

__He laughed, “Mm. Is that so?” When she nodded, he kissed her again; they did this often, kissing back and forth, never too much, but just enjoying each other's company, the freedom to act together as they wanted. She'd loved him for years; perhaps that was why they could work together this way, him helping her study, making her sleep and eat, looking after her, ignoring himself. He loved her. He was always there for her. They didn't need anything but to know the other was there, even if it was a late-night text, or a half-slurred voice message when they were feeling lonely. “I love you, too,” he murmured, when they both needed a breath._ _

__She smiled again, but sighed. “We should sleep.”_ _

__He hummed quietly, lifting his head so that he could kiss her forehead softly, and nodded. “Alright, love. Go ahead.” He waved the towel at her, and after taking it back in the bathroom to hang, he joined her; she was already curled up, waiting for him, and he gladly obliged, wrapping himself securely around her, pressing his lips to her nape. “You're gonna do just fine on all of this, love.”_ _

__She sighed softly, snuggling herself in to him. “Thank you.”_ _

__He kissed her nape again, and she drifted off to the feeling of him around her, his chest swelling in to her back with each breath, his fingers tickling her belly gently._ _

__It was the best feeling. It was familiar, and comforting._ _

__The next day arrived too soon, but (Name) still did what she had to do, and Newt continued to pack things up; they'd leave tomorrow. He set to putting her clothes away, this time, knowing she'd only want a few changes, until she could unpack in to her old bedroom, so this would save a lot of time. He knew what her favorites were, so he left those out, and packed up the rest neatly. He could pack up the cookware, too, after dinner...and everything else to do with eating; they could grab food on the way home._ _

__He wrapped lamp cords around their bases and put away the books she had for school; she could decide what to do with those later._ _

__By the time she got home, her apartment was nearly packed up._ _

__But she didn't pay any heed, if she even noticed. Instead, she dropped her bag—she'd taken some notes and the textbook with her to study between finals—right in the door and walked in to him, leaning every bit of her weight in to his body, her head buried in his collar, and she'd just stayed there as he wrapped her up. “...Failure or not...it's over.”_ _

__He gave her a soft sigh, and he rubbed her back. “You haven't failed. I know it, love.” He gently lifted his hand, stroking her hair, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You're amazing.”_ _

__She sighed, too, but nuzzled in to him. “Would you hate me if I slept for a couple hours?” She paused, and then he felt her trembling. “I might cry, now that it's all over.”_ _

__He chuckled quietly, but he bent and scooped her in to his arms easily. “Unless you just want to be alone, I'll nap with you.” He squeezed her gently in to his chest, setting off for her bedroom. “Is that okay?”_ _

__She didn't protest at all; instead, she snuggled in to him, giving a heavy sigh. “I don't think I can think of anything better.”_ _

__Newt was strong enough to cradle her in one arm, and he turned down the covers on the bed carefully, before he eased her beneath them. He then crawled in after her, wrapping her in his arms, and pulled the blankets to her chin._ _

__He didn't set an alarm._ _

__They awoke long past dark, but that time of year, it was hard to tell what time it truly was. Newt woke first; he'd not been stressed beyond measure or reason lately, so it was only natural that he find consciousness earlier than his girlfriend. Still, he only laid there; it was tempting to get dinner ready while she slept, but he couldn't bring himself to leave her there. He wanted her to know it was all still real, still complete. She wasn't going to awaken and think that she was running late for class, or worse, an exam._ _

__Instead, he didn't even shift to turn on the light; he merely lingered there, keeping as still as he could, so as not to disturb her, but he pressed close, lifting his arm closer to her chest; he felt it swell with her breaths, and he listened to the soothing sound of her soft breathing. He held her, not daring to shift too much, for fear of waking her, but he relished the feeling of her there in his grasp, with the knowledge that she had nothing to worry about for a few weeks; she could come home with him, recover, rest, and whatever the results of her finals were...well, she could worry about that later. She needed the time off._ _

__She didn't sleep past him by much. She began to shift and shuffle in her sleep after about fifteen minutes, stirring to consciousness slowly, and for once, she didn't wake up in a flurry or panic; she groaned and rubbed her eyes, and he felt her sigh, then felt her press back in to him. “How long did we sleep?”_ _

__He chuckled, shaking his head, and dipped to press his lips to her nape gently, “I don't know. I was trying not to move, so you'd sleep,” he offered. Still, he stretched over her, reaching to her bedside table, and he slid his phone off it; he checked the time on it, humming. “A few hours,” he murmured, kissing her skin again, a little brush of lips at the edge of her hair. “Shall I fix dinner?”_ _

__She grumbled quietly, snuggling in to him, but he felt her pulse jumping with the touch of his mouth. “...I guess. I still have to pack my shit.”_ _

__He laughed, and this time, he bit softly at her neck, just behind her ear. “You actually think I'm that bloody useless?” There was a wealth of warmth and teasing in his voice, a smile on his face—she felt it as his lips pressed to her skin. “I've packed you up, other than a few things. I've got a lot of it already in the truck,” he said, grinning as he peppered little kisses across her neck, earning a burst of giggles from her. “You've been so busy...I figured I'd do what I could.”_ _

__She rolled over, and with his eyes adjusting to the dark, he saw her smiling at him. She leaned in, kissing him, slowly and sweetly, “You're amazing.”_ _

__“Too bloody right,” he quipped, and she burst in to more giggles, but she was kissing him again soon, sighing against him. “What would you do without me?”_ _

__Her face fell in a moment, and she shook her head, stroking his hair slowly. “I wouldn't,” she murmured, one of her fingers softly tracing his bottom lip. “I'd be nowhere without you. I don't know how you put up with me, after all you've dealt with while I've been away.” She paused, feeling him kiss her thumb, but she still feathered the digit over his mouth again, slow and soft, taking him in. “And all you do for me. Looking after me, packing me up...feeding me, making sure I'm healthy and sane and sleeping,” she murmured._ _

__He smiled at her, clasping her hand in his, lifting them high enough that he could lean in, softly kissing her almost-pouting lips. “I love you. That's how.”_ _

__She watched him for a little while, and finally, her lips softened to a gentle, little smile, and she kissed him again. “I love you, too,” she murmured._ _

__Though they stayed that way for a time, dinner had to be made, and they worked together. They packed up what they could of what remained, and put it all near the door before they went to bed._ _

__Breakfast was not breakfast; it was lunch. They packed both vehicles full, and walked to a little shop for a cup of coffee and food, and before they left, Newt wrapped her tightly in his arms, leaning against her car, keeping her safe against his chest. “You sure you're okay to drive?”_ _

__She nodded, lifting her head to kiss him softly. “I'm fine.” She paused, and smiled. “Thanks to you.”_ _

__He returned her smile, bending his head, and he kissed her back, lingering. “Want me to lead?”_ _

__“Truck has worse gas mileage. You lead, I'll stop when you stop,” she said, straightening, not yet out of his arms, but seeming more aware than he'd seen her all week._ _

__He felt relieved at seeing her improving, and he could have sworn a weight fell from his shoulders at the thought. “Okay.”_ _

__He bent to give her a quick kiss, knowing they should get going, but she kept him there, holding him to her, kissing him deeper, and he didn't protest; he never had the thought to even try. He let her kiss him until they were both breathless, and he kept his eyes closed for a moment, relishing the feeling of it; she felt more like his (Name) now, more sure and strong, more peaceful and more loving. She was more herself, and he could feel it in her kiss, could feel it in the attention and care she gave him._ _

__When he opened his eyes, he found her watching him, smiling. “Thank you,” she said, slowly, and he heard the power and meaning behind her words. “For loving me the way you do. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.”_ _

__He laughed at that, not doubting that she meant it, but at the thought that she thought she was the lucky one. He was lucky. He knew it. “I think I'm the lucky one, love.”_ _

__“Mm-mm,” she hummed insistently, kissing him again, softly. “I'm lucky. You're stuck with me.”_ _

__He knew this would go nowhere, so he kissed her in return, softly biting her lip. “We can debate the issue all day, love, but we've gotta get going at some point.” He said it reluctantly, and he watched her face fall, but he began to grin, “But trust me, I'm the lucky one.”_ _

__He gave her no time to respond—instead, he darted away, circling to his truck, and he was in before she could think to shout at him. He revved the engine, grinning at her as he rolled the window down. “Your parents agree with me!”_ _

__Oh, no way was he getting away with that! She leaned through his window and kissed him in the way she knew he had never been able to resist. She kissed him breathless, going between long kisses and short, peppered ones, not giving him a break for breath or thought, nibbling until his lips were tender and she knew he'd have dragged her in his lap..._ _

__If not for the door._ _

__She pulled away deliberately, then, dragging his lower lip with her, earning a little, nearly inaudible whimper, and she grinned at his half-lidded eyes. “I'll return the help when we get home,” she promised, a wildness in her eyes. “If you still think you're lucky.”_ _

__He swore fluently as she made her escape, throwing the truck in to gear._ _

__He wouldn't tell her that he'd already tested his luck._ _

__Not yet._ _

__He wouldn't admit that he'd asked her career-minded father if, after all these years, he could put a ring on her finger in front of her family._ _

__Not yet._ _

__He wouldn't admit that he'd had the thing with him the whole time, fidgeting with it when he had nothing to pack and nothing to cook._ _

__Not yet._ _

__But when they arrived home, and he helped her carry her things to the garage, and led her to her family, he'd nod at her father and mother, and they'd nod back._ _

__And when they had a family party for the holidays, he'd get down on his knee, bad ankle and all, and ask her to let him love her forever—to keep her head on straight when she worked too hard, and to calm her down when she was about to lose it. He wanted to be there to help her in her darkest times, for, in the end, she had helped him in many of his. Her smile was bright enough to ease even his darkest memories. He wanted to be there to make sure she would always have something to smile about._ _

__That she would always have someone to lean on._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoyed it!


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